Just a short walk. Well, let’s say 12 kms but I’ll do the walking. All you have to do is sit there in your comfortable armchair – or your bed even seeing as it’s still Sunday.
Though I have to say, back in the day my coal was delivered by horse and cart. The coalman would heave the sack onto his shoulder and carry it into the house. Later, the horse was put out to grass ( I hope) when the coalman got a lorry.
Did I mention he had only one arm? Didn’t seem to affect his driving.
We’re on Leeson Street, by the way and coming up to Donnybrook Church. Here’s how green and lovely everything looks at this time of year:
We’re cutting a corner or two here and instead of going on up to UCD Belfield site ( where I used to play hockey for UCD’s fifth or was it sixth team?) we’re swinging to the left along Nutley Lane and on to the end and then hanging a left again towards Ballsbridge.
And here’s the next marker, a memorial to all those who lost their lives in the fight for freedom. You’ll notice I’m being careful with the wording. I don’t think Dev meant *all *who died. But then again, maybe he did. Anyway, here it is:
Horse shoe pitching was a traditional sport round here. Notice the way the horse shoe is hanging. Beware: if it’s hanging the other way all its good luck will drain away.
Don’t know how many people will be interested in this eagle:
Unless they’re jetting off Dublin to Dubai which is a major hub for flights to all four corners of the globe.
The United Emirates is a federation of seven countries and guess who has off pat the name of all of them? You’re right – Tony Blair.
Feet aching a bit? Want to pop into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee? Hang on. We’re just at the canal. See?
Walking along the canal now and into the magical, mysterious world of the willow tree. Gorgeous.
And here we are back again, more or less. That didn’t take long, did it? It took me two hours, without cutting the corners but who’s counting?
Last pic is someone who’s not up yet but if you’ve no home to go to, there’s probably no point in getting up. He’s chosen an august place to doss: this is the Georgian house that used to be a hotel serving the canal harbour. Then it became a nursing home where Jack Yeats spent some time. Now it’s a school for foreign students.
If you enjoyed this stroll, have a look at my website and my latest book – a travel book about Syria, before the war.